


I am in love with you

by NanakiBH



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Community: springkink, Dubious Consent, M/M, Memory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-15
Updated: 2011-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanakiBH/pseuds/NanakiBH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time passes, people change, people change time. He isn't exactly like what he remembers, but his feelings for him are the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am in love with you

**Author's Note:**

> For this springkink prompt:  
> "Code Geass, SuzakuxLelouch: violence, dub non-con, madness; Suzaku remembers a past life as the treacherous knight and regret what he had done so badly that he turn half insane; when he meet Lelouch he will do anything to prevent pass tragedy to repeat - everything is perfect, now. I will keep you safe no matter what"

Just another week or so and then he'll hit the number that brings him even nearer to the dreaded three-zero. He doesn't remember ever feeling this old but now that it's dawning on him, that his adolescence is long gone, he's starting to feel like he could go grey at any minute just from the stress of what it means.

Mostly, he tries not to think about it and concerns himself about other things. Like the fact that his job still provides a little bit less than what he needs. His car broke down, but that was a family hand-me-down thing anyway and it was a mess to start with. But then there's also his mom who makes faces at him whenever he comes home, like she's disappointed that there aren't grandkids scurrying in behind him when he walks in through the door. It bugs him.

There've been girlfriends, yeah. For twenty-eight years, he's been a pretty normal guy who shuffles through girlfriends, never feeling like any of them are the right one. Part of it is his general disinterest in women or having romantic relationships with them, but the truth would probably break his mom's heart and send his dad's heart into cardiac arrest. So he doesn't bother telling them. He's nearing the point where he wishes he had gotten married just so he could have a kid and then get a divorce so that he could _have a kid_ that his mom could cuddle and call family.

He's not like that, though. He just wants to see them happy, even if it means sacrificing a little bit of himself. He doesn't mean to think about it so cynically.

He just wishes that he could find something that makes him happy.

He thinks, _Before I turn thirty, let there be someone. Please._

At night, he falls asleep thinking about it, tries to picture in his mind what his perfect partner would be like before he drifts off into his dreams, hoping to inspire something. Maybe destiny could hear him if he begs incessantly enough.

On the back of his eyelids, he imagines someone gentle who speaks well but has a lot of clever wit; someone who loves him so much that they would give everything for him. Their smile puts butterflies in his stomach and he falls asleep so easily thinking about them – whoever they are – it may as well be as if they were right there beside him.

When he wakes up, he feels like he's never slept better in his life. Every time. Work goes better than usual and everyone starts thinking that there's a new somebody in his life, but he just laughs it off because there's nobody but this perfect image he cultivates.

He grabs a coffee after work. It makes him feel silly to buy into the whole coffee-chain thing, but their drinks are nice and the one that he gets with whipped cream and chocolate on top feels like a reward after a day at work. It's pricey, but worth it.

It gets more worth it when he starts noticing the new person they hired.

Standing at the counter is what might be a carbon copy of the one he sees in his mind before he falls asleep. Dark hair falls in front of his face as he bends and long, delicate fingers work on tying the thin apron string behind his back. He fumbles with it a bit and the girl next to him behind the counter laughs and ends up helping him tie it and Suzaku can't help the unexplainable, misplaced jealousy he feels towards her. Maybe it's misplaced. It feels like it is when really, he's never seen this person in his life.

But he has, he realizes. Maybe not literally, but things like this don't just happen on a coincidence.

The day he first sees him, he sits in his usual spot which is close to the register where people pay and pick up their drinks, but near enough to the exit. Suzaku's so close and he can't help the way his eyes follow every little move he makes. Being the new guy, he clearly doesn't know what to do and he asks for help and now Suzaku doesn't mind what the girl does because this new guy is too cute when he doesn't know what key to press on the register.

Well, he's a regular, so the next time he visits the coffee place, he introduces himself. “Suzaku.” Simple as that and tells him about how long he's been coming and that he's surprised to see somebody new around, must be because it's close to the holidays. Late November and all. They need the help.

They talk for a while and he finds out how sharp he is when he speaks. By now, Suzaku's mostly let go of what he expected him to be like because the real thing is perfect. He smiles at Suzaku like he's his best friend, like they've known each other for years and it makes him feel really relieved to know that he isn't coming off as a creep, even though he's sure he's gotta be obvious. He knows he's flirting and this kid isn't taking it bad at all. In fact, Suzaku would say he's eating it up.

Next time he goes, the kid actually remembers his drink of choice. He adds extra chocolate on top and slides it across the counter to him. When Suzaku takes it and pays for it, he lets their fingers brush as he hands him his money. The way the guy's breath catches doesn't go without notice.

“You seem familiar,” he says, tucks a stray strand of hair behind one of his ears. His lavender eyes look off to the side curiously, thinking, but then he just shakes his head and laughs lightly. When he laughs, Suzaku feels his heart melt in his chest.

He finds out that he's seventeen and goes to the same boys' school that he went to when he was younger. Until he hears his age, he hasn't realized what a huge gap there was in their age. Something has made it feel so effortless and natural despite that and the kid obviously hasn't been doing anything to make him think he's found it odd either.

He definitely seems familiar to Suzaku, too.

The night after that, he doesn't sleep so well.

He turns onto his back in the middle of the night, opens his eyes, and stares at the ceiling. It's still white, the moon's still high above outside his window shining light into his room, but something feels like it's moved inside of him. Hands clutching at his shirt, his chest feels too tight, and all of a sudden he feels overwhelmingly sad.

Picturing the boy's face this time does the opposite of what it used to. Tears fall helplessly from the corners of his eyes and soak into his pillow.

He closes his eyes and manages to fall asleep with shaking breaths. When he opens his eyes the next morning, Suzaku remembers how much he loves him.

Work physically hurts to be at. At noon, he rushes to the bathroom and throws up in the nearest stall and is so thankful that no one is around to hear him whimpering to himself. His head hurts and it's like there's a billion hands trying to push their way into his brain and give him things and it just won't all fit – it can't and he's freaking out. He flushes the toilet, grimaces at the horrific taste in his mouth and leans his head back against the stall door as he sits on the floor.

As much as he tries to calm down, he can't. He looks at his hands and they're his, but they're not. They're Suzaku's.

He doesn't know what it means to suddenly remember something. Maybe this is what amnesia feels like, but he's pretty sure he doesn't have amnesia and whatever this is, it's driving him crazy. Crazy is what he feels like, at least. At the same time, he can't be.

Because he's Suzaku and he believes he's _Suzaku_ , just maybe not the same one everyone else thinks he is. Because this life is too peaceful and he remembers blood in front of his eyes and holding a warm, limp body in his arms.

He throws up again.

A few minutes after that, maybe an hour later, he wakes up on one of the benches outside the company restroom and one of his coworkers is standing by his side with a paramedic or somebody. “Overwork,” they seem to conclude and thankfully, they let him leave. On wobbling legs, he makes it all the way back home and collapses wearily into his bed.

He really wants to see him, though. If it weren't for this strange, horrible quivering and sickness, he wouldn't have even noticed that there was a change. All he knows is that he loves that boy. He knows that his feelings are mutual, too. Somehow, he feels like he was the one who failed him and that things could have gone differently and he lays in bed for an hour or two opening and closing his fists and thinking about how he's not going to let him go this time.

Everything should be okay now and he wants to keep it that way. There's no better place for him to be than with Suzaku where he can protect him this time.

The next day... he doesn't go anywhere. Still feeling sick, he waits it out at home. He feels excited, though, because the next day, he goes to see him. He feels significantly better once he gets himself out of bed and the headaches are gone but there's still a pull on his chest and he assumes it's just that thing called love.

When the kid hands him his drink and Suzaku hands him his money and their hands brush together more intentionally this time, he looks up at him in the eyes and tells him that he wants to go out with him sometime. There's no way he can blame him for the hesitant look he gives him because who would understand if they saw a pair like them walking together or doing things on a date like a normal couple? It might seem odd.

So he invites him over to his place and the kid's eyes light up. Then it seems like he's trying to conceal his enthusiasm as he gives a small nod and says, “I'd like that.” Suzaku's heart grows three sizes just with that one line. He could be so cute.

Then it kind of hits him, the thing he was forgetting this whole time. For a second, he knows he must have let a very confused expression slip so he tries to cover it up as quickly as possible and asks,

“What was your name?”

The boy grins and leans his hip on the counter, crosses his arms. “Lelouch. How could you forget?”

Like in a movie, time slows down for a second while he stands alone in the spotlight to wonder what that means. Of course he knows his name. It is unthinkable that he could forget it. No one else has such a distinguished name; the name he has murmured in affection, whispered with passion, and screamed with fury. Reality draws him back with the way his heartstrings draw tight.

“Suzaku?” Lelouch is leaning on the counter this time with his elbows on the countertop, his chin in his palms and Suzaku feels cold and at the same time _warm_. If he didn't know better, he would have gone in for a kiss just then. But even on a good day, Lelouch would never let him do that in front of a bunch of people. Instead, he happily leans in and brushes their cheeks together and gives him a secret kiss right below his ear.

The other barista girl comes over right in time to see it happen and she gasps in a more than pleased way; not what Suzaku expects at all. It makes his grin widen, though. Confidently, he pulls out a piece of paper from his wallet and searches through his pocket for a pen to write down his address for Lelouch. He puts it in his hand, squeezes gently, and gives him a fond smile.

“See you tonight,” he says. _I love you so much,_ he wants to say. _I'm going to make it right for you this time._

Suzaku doesn't catch their conversation as he heads out the door, but after he leaves, the girl leans on the counter next to Lelouch and looks at him suspiciously. “Isn't he a little... old for you, that one?” she asks.

“Is he?” he asks back. “I don't see anything really different about us.” The way Lelouch watches Suzaku leave, she thinks that's the most mature she's ever seen him look.

 

Lelouch climbs the stairs on the side of Suzaku's apartment building and stands outside of his door. He glances down at the piece of paper in his hand, matches the number to the one on the door and gives it a knock. There's some noise from inside, but in less than a minute, the door opens and Suzaku greets him with a ridiculously bright smile. It's dark out and a little bit cold so he ushers Lelouch in and closes the door behind him.

He slides his arms under Lelouch's and holds him around his waist, puts his face in his neck and inhales deeply. It seems like there are things he wants to say, but he doesn't say a word and then his hands are fumbling at the buttons on the front of Lelouch's shirt.

Lelouch puts his hands over his, stills them. “I smell something nice,” he says, distracted-sounding, digging for something to say. There's a pleasant smell wafting into the doorway from the direction of what has to be the kitchenette and it smells like something promising, whatever it is. Suzaku ignores the hesitating sound in Lelouch's voice.

“Lelouch...” he murmurs, his voice so quiet that he isn't convinced that he even said it until he says it again just in case. Lelouch turns around in his arms, his eyes looking a little worried, a little confused, like there's something wrong and maybe Suzaku should apologize. He doesn't have the words for what he would apologize for just yet, but it'll come to him. Surely Lelouch would understand how much he needs him after so long, though.

A lifetime is too long and all he wants to do is feel him against him like he used to with his legs around his waist and his hands in his hair, warm and breathing and so, so alive.

A second later, he has him backed up against the door and he's sliding his hands down his sides until he reaches the hem of his shirt, lifts, pushes his hands underneath. His mouth is occupied with Lelouch's mouth, who makes soft whimpering noises against him, rolls his hips forward suddenly in a way that makes Suzaku push back. Lelouch's knees are trembling, so he lowers them to the floor, pulls him into his lap, probably bruises the skin along his ribs with how tightly he holds onto him beneath the soft fabric of his shirt.

“Suzaku,” his voice is commanding and has that tone to it that he uses when he's done something, but there's a quiver there too and it sets his blood on fire, makes him want him so badly. The food in the kitchen will be fine since he turned the burners off. No worries there at all. Some things just can't wait and this is one of them: right here, right now, his lips pressing against the soft jut of Lelouch's throat, feeling every ragged breath, their chests pressing together where he can feel the stutter in the rise and fall.

He hears his name again but it feels kind of distant and his mind is a little absent. The doorway's a bit cold, but he can't wait any longer than he has already, knows that waiting will drive him crazier still and Lelouch struggles in his grasp when he undoes the buttons of his shirt. It feels like a blessing just to hear him say his name again, no matter how he says it. The skin beneath his hands is still just as smooth as his fingertips remember, his waist still feels a bit too skinny between his hands when he lifts his hips to tug down his pants.

He doesn't get them off all the way; almost makes it, but Lelouch nearly knees him in the jaw for trying. Impatience or ~~resistance~~ something else, he can't really tell anymore.

Once they are off, he kisses his way from Lelouch's ankle to his knee. The other doesn't make a sound, just shivers beneath his touch, breathing out in quick staccato breaths. He pushes his shirt open to the sides more, enjoying the way the cold air from the door makes his skin prickle and makes his nipples rosy and hard. When he grasps Lelouch in his hand, he's soft, but it's nothing that some biting and sucking along his neck can't fix and he grows harder at his touch.

“Suzaku, I thought...”

There may be tears at the corners of Lelouch's eyes, but Suzaku presses his thumbs there and kisses him deeply, silencing him and distracting him long enough to work down his own pants.

“It's been so long...” he whispers, keeping their foreheads pressed together.

“I don't know what you mean.”

His first thrust is a little raw and painful. He wishes that he could keep himself from being so hasty, but Lelouch will surely understand. He gathers him in his arms and pulls him into his lap where at least the angle makes things a little better. His back is against the door and it's so cold but Lelouch is so warm against him that he feels like he could cry. He might still. It's the best feeling in the world to be reunited with him in this way, to feel him around him and outside and all over, his nails raking at the skin of his shoulders, his legs pressed firmly on either side of his waist.

When he finishes, Lelouch lies limply in his arms, his arms hanging over his shoulders, his face pressed against the side of his neck where he can't really see him. But now he notices the way his shoulders shake, the way he takes small, uneven breaths, feels something warm and wet slide down his shoulder after a particularly hard shudder.

Reality makes him feel awkward. The longer he stays, the more something feels amiss. Aside from his somewhat forceful entry, he thought he was fairly gentle with him. He didn't always want him to be gentle with him anyway. He was Zero once upon a time, after all.

And Suzaku was, too...

And...

“It doesn't make sense.”

Lelouch's nails dig so hard into his shoulder that he has to clench his teeth to keep from yelling at it. “Why are _you the one saying that?_ ” he asks and he leans back far enough for Suzaku to finally see all the hurt and anger in his eyes, completely unveiled and now Suzaku finally starts to realize that maybe

while he's this Suzaku

and that Suzaku at the same time,

this Lelouch is just...

He doesn't know how to explain this.

Because now he realizes what was amiss and why this doesn't feel quite right.

All he can do is pull himself away slowly. He fixes himself up and helps Lelouch redress, his silence enough to keep Lelouch from strangling him – lets him save his breath because he wonders what Suzaku has to say still to explain what just happened. 'Why now' or 'why me' – _if_ there's a 'why' at all. That's what Suzaku's sure he's thinking about, but he doesn't have any answers and wishes that he did. He feels empty inside for a second time after so long.

This Suzaku has experienced his first real loss.

He doesn't mind it when Lelouch hurries to stand and moves away from him.

The door doesn't open like he expects it to, though. Lelouch doesn't leave. He hovers at the door, his hand on the doorknob, doesn't turn it.

“I'm so sorry, Lelouch,” he murmurs from the floor. He can't bring himself to look at him. The chill in the pit of his stomach has worked its way up to freeze his heart and makes his eyes sting with tears and when he finally lets them fall, it feels more than disappointing that they exist for this kind of reason. His head hurts so he keeps it between his knees, bites his lip roughly between his teeth, tries to give an explanation and can't think of anything that doesn't make him feel completely insane for it.

“Explain.”

Suzuku whimpers. “I can't,” he says.

There's some silence in which he hears Lelouch move around. Stiffly. He must have hurt him. He hates that. Isn't that just defeating the whole point of why he took him in his arms to start with?

“Why aren't you leaving...?” he brings himself to ask. If he lets him go, he'll just go to the police or tell someone and then.

“I don't know,” he says softly. His footsteps return to him slowly and Suzaku feels a hand in his hair urging him to look up. The expression on Lelouch's face is just... tired. Really tired and worn out. The fingers in his hair brush against his neck and then he leans down and they kiss and Suzaku sobs against his lips.

“Stop crying. It's unsightly. Didn't you make food? It's just going to be cold now if all you want to do is sit here and cry. I thought that's why you invited me over – some gentleman you are.”

“L-Lelouch...”

“Who do you think I am?” he asks, getting straight to the point.

“Lelouch.” It's the first time he's been sure of his answer, but “I don't know any other 'Lelouch'... I think. Just you, Lelouch.”

“Do you love me?” he asks. Suzaku doesn't need to think about this.

“Yes.”

There's an unspoken _“Then treat me that way.”_ in the way Lelouch glares. It makes Suzaku want to curl up and hide, but at the same time, the way Lelouch sounds right now is so different from the person back at the coffee place.

Maybe this one and that one that he seems to remember really are the same person.

And maybe it's good that Lelouch doesn't realize and remember that for himself. There are some things that he's probably better off not remembering, like ever being Zero or killing Euphemia or Clovis or any of that. If he remembered things like that so suddenly like Suzaku did, he's sure that this Lelouch wouldn't be able to take it. It just makes him sort of sick to think that maybe he's one of those things that Lelouch can't remember.

Warm arms guide him up. When they're up, Lelouch puts his arms around his shoulders and kisses him again. He has to lean up to do it. Before that, Suzaku nearly forgot that he was that much shorter than him now. Not _that_ much, but he's so young.

But so beautiful, just as he had remembered. And now that Lelouch doesn't look so distressed and looks more tired than anything else, he thinks he looks like he used to.

“So are we going to eat?” he asks. For a moment, he leans his head against him and Suzaku gets to feel his breath on his neck. He tries not to think about that too much. “I think I deserve something after letting you take advantage of me.”

He probably isn't going to let him forget that. For Suzaku, it was like reuniting with a lost lover, but for Lelouch, it must have been like...

“Was that... I mean... have you ever...”

Lelouch shrugs. Makes a vague motion with one of his hands in the air and leans away so he can start walking into the kitchen.

“Not that I'm aware of.” He invites himself to the table, pulls out a chair, and sits. He puts his elbow on the table and leans his cheek into his palm. “Unless you've been doing me in my sleep and I don't remember. It felt familiar, that's all. Whatever's wrong with you must be infecting me too, I think.”

He enjoys the way that Lelouch fits in at his table, like his presence is supposed to be there. While he goes over to the stove and grabs a dish for him to serve him food, he smiles. It would be okay if things stayed like this because things were already different. Different is okay as long as Lelouch is the same at his core.

He puts the dish down in front of him at the table and the sound seems to bring Lelouch back from a very brief doze.

Suzaku runs the backs of his knuckles lightly across his forehead to brush his hair out of the way and smiles as Lelouch yawns like a completely unreserved, normal kid.

“You don't have to think too hard about anything at all now, Lelouch.”


End file.
